Spellwork
by Wangan
Summary: I call on all who are sick of being a victim. Tired of being powerless. Who are ready and willing to make a change. Find me and I promise to provide you, your family and friends with something that the Protectorate doesn't. Safety. Find me and together, we will drag this planet of ours into a better age. If you trust in anyone, in anything, trust in Taylor Hebert.
1. Laying Down the Chalk

**AN: I have to say I've been tossing this idea around for awhile. I wanted to have a more Original Alt!Taylor Worm story for awhile and since I have hit a rather nasty writer's block with my other stories I wanted to focus on my own ideas and develop them a little. Crossovers are fun and all but you get one thing wrong and the fans of either series will eviscerate you. That aside, I've done my best to make this the most well written story I have made. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Magic.

Magic is a wonderful and terrible thing. A power that can give great fortune or bring down the most terrible anguish. An ability that can raze cities to the ground with a thought or build them up within a day. However for me it was the key to the current mess the world found itself in. Everyone knows the usual myths, tales, and parables about the greed of man and how it can lead to ruin. Now imagine all those warnings being disregarded, as they always are, but on a national scale leading to a choice of such stupidity that if anything beyond the bacteria and beast of burden should survive, my countrymen would live in infamy from this day eternal.

From a distance it would look as if the great white mountain citadel, Griland, was glowing like a great lighthouse entrapped by land. But now that I was here, to observe the situation up close...it was much worse. A vortex of magic flared all around me, whipping my cloak, burning on the pure soul power of the second best mage in the world, his assistance, and the lives of an entire city. The walls and parts the surrounding land that were not being thrown about like such chaff in the wind, were covered with the black oily aura of corruption. Even as I marched to it's center through the ruined streets untouched I found myself for the first time since I was a child forced to chant the most powerful counter-spells and charms I knew to avoid being consumed and taken over.

Normally, at least in this section of the city,I would've taken the most direct path along the wide sweeping streets of the city however is was not possible as rubble was blocking the once pristine marble avenues. Shame really but an unfortunate reality of the situation.

Speaking of, as I reached the grand square, clearly where this spell had been cast, the hellfire around me clears like the passing of a storm and reveals the perpetrators to this mass murder and destruction to me.

Rivaldi.

My best friend and his workers.

They had asked for my help in this project gone awry. I, like any sane man, said 'No' and being of sound mind, the greatest intelligence of modern and antiquated magic, and the only one who could reasonably complete such a feat of sorcery, had expected them all to simply give up on such ridiculousness. I had not used my better judgement to alert the guard as they were my associates and had never gone through with anything that they had randomly dreamed up from whatever part of their brain required such delusion.

Yet they still attempted it.

To break into the realm of the gods.

And the cost had been high. The corruption had gotten them, twisted them into horrid mockeries of life that would balk even the foulest thing to ever slither out of the Deadlands. They are fused, molded together like cheap clay. What remains of their skin is blackened by the fire or hanging off with muscle and bone. Limbs conjoined in awkward places twitch and mouths drool, open and close, to bleed or just scream in agony so deep it chills the bones. A hand twitches towards me, and every eye not seared shut or blinded instantly turns my way. Then the mass attempts to move, pulsing with an unnatural heartbeat and locomotion to get closer. The screams turn pleading and I can see in every attempt at motion a beg and every face that is distinguishable wants the same thing. Forgiveness. Release. Anything but a continuation of its wretched existence.

I grant it that. With a wave of my hand, it's form dissolves under my weaker spells. I'm only moderately sure I hear a 'Thank you' before the monstrosity disappears completely.

I file the trauma of what I've seen away to the back of my mind for later processing. If it become a burden then I will delete it. This is the second time I've killed someone close to me and the first time I regret that another path could not be found.

But the focus of my attention is back on the magic running wild. I really don't have much of a choice. Without the anchor the monstrosity provided, the storm of corruption howls even louder around me, crumbling what structures are left, and it cuts my already limited time even shorter. The calm eye of magic it dissipates and rips my cloak off from the sheer force. I don't mind really, it was a cheap piece after all. I stand once where the monstrosity was and close my eyes, feeling spellpower as it moves like a wildfire, spreading and consuming at the kindling it's been provided with. I reach out with my own power, to counter it.

Then… nothing. There is no reaction. No change. The corruption still burns. I'm still unaffected.

Suddenly, in less time than it took to blink, everything exploded around me. The land, my magic, even the very air in my lungs seemed to combust all at once. My own power fueled by the energy of corruption began to eat away at me. My skin, my bones, I felt it all being ripped apart, torn from me piece by insignificant piece. The pain was...the worst I'd ever been made to suffer in a long time. Most likely the worst I will ever suffer in my life.

It's nice to know that I've reached such a limit. Injury will be less difficult to deal with now that I have a true frame of reference.

Yet even as my eyes boiled away in my sockets, I my senses expanded beyond what I knew was possible. The very fabric of reality flipped open like a loose curtain blowing in the wind and nothing and everything followed right after.

Direction had no meaning. There was no up or down or forward or back. Spectrums of colors never realized by man blurred by in my consciousness. Languages never spoken or comprehended by mortal tongue came to me with an understanding that was horrifyingly peaceful. My very soul was bared to this power and was found...worthy. _They_ spoke, making clear that I was to suffer them. Suffer their presence, their benefits, and their consequences.

I refused.

 _They_ gave me no choice. I was reached into. Violated to a degree that no man, woman, or child could comprehend. Given what I wanted, and everything I didn't. Then, after moments, years, centuries, millennia, of suffering under _their_ endless wonderful vile touch, direction finally came back to me. I was falling. I fell and fell and fell, tumbling exposed and bare and vulnerable.

Finally, I slam into something and the impact is significant.

All sensation, pain, sight, the feeling of air leaving my lungs crash into me at the exact same moment and…I have a body again.

The overload on my mind fades the moment I open my eyes though vertigo still follows. There is motion to my left and despite the stiffness in the neck, I turn to look even as the room twirls around. A pale woman, in a light blue garb has some sort holding what looks like some oversized clear dart over an arm. It takes a moment just as she plunges it into the skin that I realize it's MY arm.

I try to jerk away but the stiffness of my my neck as apparently covered my entire body, so I just barely twitch. The movement causes pain and gets the woman's attention. She gasps, as she looks me right in the eyes. "Oh my god. Dear? Can you hear me?"

I nod. My throat is dry, so I doubt words would be able to be exchanged. Probably would be a boring conversation anyway.

She rushes away, leaving me to observe my current surroundings. I recognize maybe two or three things in this room. A drawer for clothing, what looks like a closet, and a chair. Oh, and of course, the bed I lay upon.

Everything else might as well not be there. I large box like object with a glass face hangs from the wall. A collection of block shaped machines next to my bed make odd noises every so often and attached to them are things that attach to me. A mask over my mouth. Something full of water I think is stabbed into the crook of my arm.

I'm about to pull all these things off, when the woman comes back, along with two men. One in a white coat. "Taylor." The other immediately upon seeing me, rushes over and gives me a hug. It's gentle and, thankfully brief, since I have no idea who this man is and that wasn't my name he spoke. Worse of all, he begins to weep. Tears streak his face as he practically chants, "I'm sorry," over and over.

I read into the man's mind to gauge his intentions for me. Their honest and open and… Well, clearly I'm not myself anymore though after my recent experience it would be foolish to expect so.

This man is my father.

XxX

It takes less than five minutes for me to realize my situation.

I am a woman...No, a girl. The change is different, strange certainly, but not unwelcome. Is better than death after all. I had entertained the idea of changing my gender and succeeded on more than one occasion. Flesh crafting is certainly nothing new to me, if I keep the form I might modify it slightly in order to give myself the proper equipment at a later date. For now, however, I need to rid my body of it's current echos of pain. Casting a numbing charm is easily done and the stiffness, while still present gives me more freedom of motion.

The doctor, who introduces himself as James, explains to me that I was in a coma after an...incident. Strange. He says it just like that. A pause as if trying to find the least abrasive term to describe what's happened to me. My "father's" reaction to it is a twitch. Which makes me curious, why such a deflection? For my protection? For theirs? Clearly something happened to me that put me (or the person who inhabited this body before me) in such a state and it wasn't an accident or they would've said so.

I have to press for details of what happened and when they tell me. It's all but confirmed my hypothesis. Being trapped in a box smaller than a coffin for nearly a full day couldn't have happened by accident unless this 'Taylor' was monumentally dim. Which I doubt, otherwise she would've been dead long before now. Stupidity has a way of culling the unfit.

After multiple examinations with machines whose purpose eluded me for now I'm left alone in my room. Even my father had left but made it clear he would be right outside if I require anything. Luckily, his very absence is just what I needed.

After calling the nurse in, I ask if there is a library nearby.

She confirms there's one on this floor.

I'm disappointed by what I find.

It's a small collection of a library. Something that you would find in a moderately prosperous town. There are a few more of those box-like objects on desks around the room, some of which have different colors on them. I don't ask what they are. What matters right now are the books. Thankfully I can read them. I was actually worried about if I could only understand the language and not the written word. If that had been the case, there would probably been some questions asked and I didn't want to be removed from this body because of my current possession by some well-meaning do-gooder. Most people think that when a spirit takes over a body, the person they were is just trapped inside, held hostage in their own mind. The truth was spirits could only take hold of a mortal on the brink of death and then forced them to pass on. A soul was much more powerful than any kind of spirit.

Looks like I saved my father from some severe heartache. Since the clear lack of my 'mother' implied one of two things. One: She was dead. Or Two: She had left him. Either of which made one fact true, she wasn't here. If this Taylor Hebert would've passed on, not only would this body have gone unused but the man would've been left alone.

That aside, I pour the next few hours into reading every piece of text in the room. I learn a lot about this world I find myself in now. Including what these box stand things are, 'computers' that connect to the 'internet'. It took me a few minutes to get a firm grasp

By the time I finish, I've learned that this is the most advanced backward society I've ever seen. There are inventions here that would shake the world back home. Even the simplest of backwaters in this nation would make the Ho'Nok and their scientific advances look like cheap tricks by comparison. The horseless carriage is one such thing I wish I'd had during my many travels. I must get one at the soonest convenience. I could've saved myself the trouble of dealing with bandits in my younger years by simply outrunning them. Yet there were so many issues with them. The jailing of criminals guilty of murder or worse, instead of instant execution for instance. Or the fact, Magic didn't exist here. Or at least not in the form I recognize.

There were different kinds of this world's magic used by "parahumans" or capes for short. Each form was categorized by type then graded by number.

A Mover was identified as someone who was able to 'move' beyond what was human ability to walk, run, or transport themselves with vehicle aid. Like teleportation spells.

Shaker was able to change the area around themselves in varying distance, effect and scale. Much like trap hexes or even complex construction spells

Brute was as on the nose as it came. Strength beyond what was humanly possible. The only comparison I had for that was the strength of an orc or Direwidow.

Breakers were simple those whose power could not be quantified. Who could 'break' simple 'rules of physics', whatever that means.

Master was the most insidious of powers. The ability to affect another's mind, to control them if need be. That stepped right over the line into dark magic. A line that I frequently toe everyday.

Thinker was the ability to read minds it seemed. Or read the world. The book was vague on that.

Tinker was the ability to create. To invent. To turn even the most useless of garbage into something deadly that was also impossible to replicate or maintain by any methods known to modern science and mechanics.

Blaster was the simplest to understand. The power to fire anything at a target. The most basic of battlecraft spells could cover that.

Changer was much like flesh crafting. To change to body at will.

Stranger was again, something that skirted the line dark magic. Affecting the mind to make someone ignore you, or not see you.

Trumps were, at least by this description, the counter of any kind to all the other powers listed before. Though what it meant by 'counter' was vague.

I'm pretty sure I qualify for trump since there was something I could use for each power.

Though after reading a newspaper, I realized I couldn't just go about using my powers like I wanted to. This Brockton Bay was a dangerous place and not even the local garrison of parahumans were able to easily stand up against them. At least, that's the tone I was able to pick up from the article.

Still as I move on to computers, I found even more things that were so much more interesting than my world.

This place had a thing called firearms. What a novelty. If I had one of those at the battle of Five Points, my job would've been much much easier. Damn Kuric'ai were relentless. The experimental part of me wanted to get my hands one one of those as soon as possible and finding out one had to be of age to purchase one dampened my mood slightly. What does age matter when it comes to weapons? One in the hands of a fool is dangerous no matter what their age. Just looking at the fiasco that sent me here is a good example.

My short-lived disappointment brushed aside I began to drink deep into the history of this place more and more.

No book, paper, or even computer(Once I got help from one of the staff) was safe from my thrust of knowledge.

It wasn't until a full seven hours later that the doctor had relegated me back to my small confinement but not before I checked out a rather large stack of material.

I spent the rest of my day in bed, reading.

Well, until nature forced me into action.

I made my way to the bathroom and, after my business was done, I stare at my reflection for a time.

I look horrible. Like I'm one stiff breeze away from falling apart. My body is thinner than I've even been in my life. This face, once full, shows cheekbones. My skin is pale, just short of sickly.

What's worse, now without knowledge to distract me, I feel just as bad as I look.

I ache right down to my bones. My muscles throb in that inflamed way with each heartbeat and an itch crawls from nerve to nerve, never satisfied no matter how much I scratch. And where I do scratch, a rash springs up which is numb to the touch.

'I'm sick!' is what my body screams and I believe it. I don't know with what. The tests they put me through at the hospital has yet to get results.

I refuse to wait that long. The pain will be gone now.

I close my eyes and call on my magic. It responds immediately, comforting in a way like a warm blanket on a cold night and fills every cell of my body. As it does, the horrible sensations bleed off of me, or that's what it felt like, purging away the impurities that infect my body.

I choose to keep my ghastly pallor for my own sake. The last thing I need is to deal with any nosy government body sticking it's fingers into my plate before I've even taken a bite.

Because of course, any institute or organization with power

I plan to dive into this world with gusto and the last thing I need are suspicious eyes turning my direction.

I'm only made aware that a great deal of time as passed when the Nurse comes in to let me know that it's lights out. I try to reason with her to allow me some more time as she comes in to change my I.V. but unfortunately medical staff in this world are as strict as the ones in my own and the lights are off before she leaves. The one blessing is that she doesn't take my material but moves it to the small table next to the bed. I'd just gotten to read through the mess that was the 'French' Revolution and I wasn't going to stop now. I wave my hand and quick cast a simple hex on the door which would make it unnoticeable for a few hours then with another wave of the hand turn the lights back on.

No need to expend my energy on light when there is already some provided. I fall back into the old habits of my schooling days, casting comprehension spells on my mind to give me an advantage of understanding what I was reading. I finish the rest of my books within two hours.

I remove the hex shortly after and proceeded to lay down for the night.

XxX

Over the next week, I find I'm quickly regretting curing myself. To have Medical professionals fawn over you when there is nothing wrong is enough to push a man to drink. Worse, to actually mimic something being wrong is a particular drain on my patience as I was never a good actor. Still they manage to buy a performance that not even the most trusting naive inquisitor would believe. They put me through so many tests, with poking and prodding that I feel more like some kind of stage attraction than a patient.

They seem very confused the whole time but eventually they finally relent and tell me and my father I can go home. News that is very exciting for me. I've only had a view of the city from the window and the News on the television.

Yet even though I'm freed they have one last insult to toss as they refuse to let me leave the building under my own power but to be carted around in a chair with wheels like some kind of invalid or lazy noble.

When my father brings his car around, I stand and get in as quickly as I can. Which reminds me, I really should get one of these. An older one though. I've learned in my research that, apparently older more obsolete versions of the automobile are seen as a higher status symbol than more current ones. As it was put to me in an online social connectivity communication platform or chatroom (why call it that as there is no room for people to 'chat' in is beyond me) on the subject of cars, _Anything before the 1980s is good._

I must do more research when I get home.

I'm struck by just how big the city is on the way to our abode, so much...taller than even the highest tower in Girland.

"...lor, did you hear me?"

I turn to my father, only now just realizing that he'd been talking. The concern in his eyes all but scream at me and I take my attention off the marvels that we pass. "I apologize, father. I was distracted." I feel worry that's been bleeding off his mind grow. "Could you repeat that?"

"I was asking, how do you feel?"

I shrug, looking back to the window. "I feel fine. Happy to be out of the hospital for certain."

I don't need to read his mind that he agrees. "So am I."

The worry fades and in it's place is such a surge of guilt that I have to turn back to him just to make sure that it's his mind I'm feeling. What's in his mind reflects on his face. Hands gripping the steering wheel, lower lip being worried by his teeth, tears not yet fallen simmering in his eyes.

"I was cleaning up your room and I found…" He pauses, almost as if he doesn't want to admit something. "...your journals."

At a red traffic signal, he turns to me and I see a man who somehow has been so thoroughly chewed up and spit out by his emotions that it's any wonder he's able to function. I should probably read these journals Taylor wrote. "I'm sorry I never asked. I should've seen the signs before things got this bad. I promise th-"

"It's fine." I say with a wave. I'm not sure how Taylor would've reacted to such an apology but for me, I have no reason to be upset at him. "I'm certain everything will resolve itself in time."

My words leave him stunned. "I...Taylor, you were in a coma!"

"And I awoke. For now, I don't care who put me in such a situation. I just want to go home."

I make sure that I leave no opening to continue the current conversation as I focus on the road ahead of us.

My father clearly wants to say something else but the rest of the ride is silent.

I'm not impressed by our home when we arrive. Clearly we don't have a great deal of personal funds, which I note to fix later. It's small, taken care of but we are in the much less wealthy part of the city. Not the slums but not opulence either. Good to see that social sections of the city haven't changed.

My father leads me to my room to show how he's cleaned it for me. I'm quite happy to see I have a computer but the rest of the room is quite...interesting. Several printed, not painted amazingly, pictures line the walls of important parahumans that fight in the name of the law. My bed looks more comfortable than anything I've had in my very long life.

Lamps, a dresser, things necessary but uninteresting.

He excuses himself, letting me know to call for him if I need anything.

I ask him for my journals so I can review them before I go to bed.


	2. A Meal Fit For A Tale

**AN: Some people wanted to know the magic system. Well, here it is.**

 **Magecraft: Basic Magic. Levitation. Creation and Repair. Reading Minds. Charms. Ect.**

 **Sagecraft: Natural Magic. Potion making. Healing Spells. Ect.**

 **Battlecraft: Fighting Magic. Fireballs. Hexes. Ect.**

 **Mage + Sage = Runecraft: Carving Runes with effects. Giving weapons with effects like poisoning. Ect.**

 **Mage + Battle = Maritalcraft: Throwing punches that can break boulders. Being able to move as fast as the wind. Giving the body reaction time beyond that of a normal human. Ect.**

 **Sage + Battle = Fleshcraft: Damaging internal organs. Causing hemorrhages. Turning Blood into acid. Changing a face or gender. Ect.**

 **Mage + Sage + Battle = Highcraft: You don't want to know. Simply put, if this is used you will not want to be in front of the target.**

* * *

The music of this world was impressive to say the least. It was at least one section of research that I used the internet for before it got so late that my father had gone to sleep by the time I'd finished. Every song, chant, and instrument from every period I could find had a passion that was lacking from home. Sure, those pious Monks would chant about the Miracle of Padum's nature day in and out but here there were songs ranging from reproductive acts and the desirable assets needed for said musician to want. Others made paintings of sound, telling a story without even a single word, bringing memories back to the fore of my mind. One piece in particular call Beethoven's 5th was enough to remind me of the time I battled with Kuric'ai seer Scrimgore in my hasty retreat at Five Points. It had been one they wrote ballads about decades later, our spells having turned once fertile land into cratered swamp.

It was enough to raise my mood throughout the night as I practiced my magic and read the journals.

Well, if there is one thing that I understand clearly about Taylor Hebert is that she was a girl being backed into a corner. I would've thought these journals would've been some very elaborate fiction if it wasn't for the detail and it's consistency. A girl who has tried everything but violence. Who is blamed for things that are not her fault with no evidence but forced to prove some when she is the accuser. Teachers who are, if not negligent, willfully ignorant to the happenings of this school. Doling out punishment with a light hand if at all, to those who can only be classified as antagonists in this new life, leaving them free to torment this girl again with even more extreme viciousness when they return.

It was to the point that she wasn't even able to eat her own lunch among her peers but in restrooms, not only in one but rotating throughout several in the building so as not to be found.

Every single event and slight is so well written I know my new identity's struggle as if it were my own.

Though I guess it is my own now which I greatly dislike. A cursed inheritance of sorts, I am now a social pharia, vilified by a person who at some point was a friend and two others more than willing to cause physical and mental harm while those who witnessed it refused to do anything about it.

As my drinking buddy, Ving, would state, 'Fuck that.'

I have little patience for fools with grudges and corrupt systems. It's easy to guess that come my inevitable return to this school, I will loose my temper and do something drastic.

I will see what steps I must take later once I get a gauge of my new tormentors beyond simple words on a page.

A knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts and I turn to see my father open the door just enough to peek his head in. "Breakfast is ready."

I look to my window, only just realizing now that yesterday evening had passed into tomorrow morning. I give him a smile. "I'll be downstairs shortly." Closing the journal and setting it next to the others on my desk, I think about casting a sagecraft vigor spell to sharpen my mind which is quickly being dulled by lack of rest now that nothing is occupying it. I decide not to as my weariness will help me pretend I am still ill.

On the table are two plates with eggs and a bowl of porridge. Something light for the stomach, I guess. I am still 'sick' after all. I waste no time sitting down and start eating. It's better fare than most inns serve.

"I have to go to work today." He says as he sits across from me. "Will you be okay without me here?"

I look at him as I take a spoonful of porridge, his thoughts wide open to me.

Danny Hebert. Hard worker of a failing enterprise at the Docks. Wait...No, the docks was the thing that was failing. Shame. Currently taken too many days off from work because of me. Superiors are understanding but strict. One of few holding the docks together from collapse.

Maybe I could fix that at a later date.

I need to give him as little stress as possible. I know if he knew what my plans were today, he' d have a heart attack. "Yes, I will."

I can't tell if my answer satifies him because he doesn't know if it satisfies him. Soon though, he nods and pulls a white rectangular box from the bag he has next to his chair. I recognize the symbol of a fruit with a bite out of it. "An Iphone?"

"I've programed in my work number." Again he nods, not looking entirely pleased with himself. Apparently, he has a distaste for cellphones. "So we can stay in contact. For emergencies."

I can hear the unspoken 'So this doesn't happen again' on his lips. I pull the phone over and remove it from the box. It's amazing how smooth it is. Like glass but so much stronger. This will serve me well.

"Thank you, father."

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. I was still at the table as he began to leave. "Taylor, if you need anything call me. I'll be home at nine."

I took the dishes to the washbasin as the door closed before taking the phone of the table.

I am embarrassed to say it took me nearly an hour to figure out how to use the damn thing but once I figured it out I decided to put my first goal into motion.

XxX

"Well, if you want it you're going to have to come in today. I've got another buyer lined up who's coming in day after tomorrow." A pause from the speaker. "I am on my way back into town though so don't rush. It would probably be best to swing by the shop at about 4:30."

Plenty of time for me to be back at the house before father get's home.

"Well, that is understable, Mister Bootlean. I understand this is basically a call at the eleventh hour." I nod as I tuck the phone between my head and shoulder. The current situation of not knowing the city isn't ideal but I can manage. "I will be there to look the product over."

A grunt of conformation. " I will see you then and please, I prefer Mister Wilson. "

"And I prefer Miss Hebert. Where is your shop?"

"Just two blocks over from Fugly Bob's, it's the garage with Bootlean Brothers written on the sign. It will be nice to meet you, Miss Hebert."

As I shut off the call, I prepared myself to get dressed. It was January, one of the cold months, and it showed. There was snow outside that went up past my ankles and the wind was blowing hard enough to chill down to the bone. I layered myself into the thickest coat I could find in the house, a long one that was almost like my old robes called a trenchcoat, and cast a series of insulation spells on every article of clothing I had. I didn't even shiver as I stepped outside.

Making sure to lock to door behind me with a wave, I make my way into the city proper. I think I should head to the Mall first. I take care to avoid certain routes. In my research last night, I've learned that gangs essentially control this city. Not to the degree of New York or Los Angeles or Boston, the latter of which is home to one of the premier colleges in the nation, which are apparently much worse but certainly not safe if you don't fit in or keep your head down.

The Merchants were the most deceiving of them. When I saw their naming I first thought of the Merchants Guilds that I'd had interacted with before. While I was wrong about their methods I found them to be no less predatory and corrupt than the ones at home. Instead of binding their victims with crippling debt they would instead 'make' those who desired their product, addicting them to medicines turned to poisons that would rot the body in various ways. Substances that no sane mind would ever reasonably imbibe. Their leaders were surprisingly a parahuman couple who were just as addicted to their own supply as their 'customers.' Still, somehow they were able to hold together an organization even under the influence. One could call it genius if it wasn't so disgusting. Luckily, this group's reach never extended beyond the docks, held in check by the other groups in the city. Which was concerning for my father's safety. I would have to deal with them quickly before something happened.

The Azian Bad Boys or ABB was the second gang that I could decisively call an enemy of the city. Their list of crimes was far too long to recount. Everything from slave trading to murder to extortion, they were a blockage to the progress of the city. A pest to be burned out. The only thing that made me refrain from taking care of them was the leader. This Lung was clearly powerful enough to give the local garrison and other gangs pause having fought something called Leviathan evenly. A dragon in human form. First time I'd ever seen such. Most time they were just fine with killing anything in it's territory but this one seemed fine with walking in human skin to fit in. Then again considering the actions of its organization, it was the same disgustingly greedy and cruel type of being I'd faced before, no matter what face it wore. A thing to be slayed, nothing more. I would seek it out in my own time.

Empire Eighty Eight was by far the most powerful if one was to judge by territory and numbers. Thought woefully short of being an actual empire, it was the only gang that had by far the largest number of parahumans under its command. And I could see it's appeal considering the other options. This 'Kaiser' who was at it's helm claimed to be working for the people. To remove the influence of the other gangs who preyed on the innocent. To make this city safe again where the Protectorate and PRT failed. However, it's doctrine I found was flawed. It's concept of blood and social 'purity' made little sense. When blood was spilt it was all red in the end, no matter who it was. Plus the idea of 'purity' meant that inbreeding would be not only necessary but mandatory and I personally had seen the results of such. The Ho'nok had a similar idea and it failed them completely, their biggest city run by a madwoman with a clubfoot and a habit of drinking marmalade by the barrel. Besides, anyone no matter what race has the capacity to do good as well as evil.

However, if there was any route that would make passage safe, it would be near the PRT Headquarters. Speaking of, I had a particular distaste for such an ineffectual organization. I gave the building a sneer as I passed. It was supposed to be some kind of national Parahuman military group and yet almost every city's situation was no less bleak than Brockton Bay. They clearly wielded a scalpel where a sword was need. Everything was soft touch with them. None of these criminals with or without powers were executed on sight. Some stupid concept of a right to a trial, when the ones given those rights didn't give a damn for others.

What a backwards system. For all it's progress, this society rots from the inside and they call it safe. Maybe the Trill would like this system. Featherheads couldn't find the backbone to execute their own egg smashers, much less send them to prison.

My distaste for this places flaws aside, there were a great deal more interesting positives. The mall for example. When I read what exactly it was, a large market place, I was expecting something like the annual Bazaar after the harvests. Large crowds. Men and women peddling their wares. Many fascinating and unique products.

As I walked into a monolith of a build more suited for a Temple, I got all of that and more. There were more shops with more products and more people than I had ever seen in my long life. Every kind of good I could imagine was sold here. Clothing. These wondrous electronics. Toys for children that I know if they existed back home they would've only gone to the spoiled brats that made up Girlands noble houses. It was only when I was about to pass a store called Abercrombie and Fitch that I found myself halted in my tracks. Just through the threshold was a wall sized picture of a young man, clearly fit, in nothing but his under dressings, his eyes taken perfectly enough to give anyone the illusion that he was looking right at them. I couldn't help but stare open-mouthed at the shamelessness of this culture at times. By Dinath's word, even his expression was more suited for the bedroom behind closed doors than some public center of commerce.

I only realized I'd been staring too long when I overheard giggles from behind me. I can't be sure if they were directed at me or something else but I didn't turn to look around to see where they had come from. I continued what felt like a grand tour of items before it hit me that I was lacking on funds. Not for Mister Wilson, I already had his payment but for this country? I checked my wallet and inside was a single ten dollar bill.

Good. Any amount was enough. I had used most of my coinage in my practice of transmutation the previous night.

I closed my eyes and fed my magic into my hand. Within two seconds, I felt my wallet grow thicker and thicker in my grasp. When I looked in again, I counted thirty more bills.

XxX

In all honesty, even though I wanted to buy almost everything I saw I'd realized that, not being a girl of means, how odd it would look to anyone who might know me if I suddenly went on a shopping spree. I have no idea how often Taylor Hebert came to this mall, who does and doesn't know her. The journals focused on her educational experience and little else. I shouldn't risk it until I'm sure. By now it was around two past noon and while I was getting close to my appointment, there was still a little bit of time to burn.

I left the mall with a few modest purchases of toys and made my way to this Fugly Bobs, which apparently was a restaurant of sorts. I could tell it was from the smell of foods fried in fat which reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything since this morning. I should probably mention that such fare is a weakness of mine. Up until now, I had barely anything beyond cheap or blandly cooked food up until I'd gotten home, somehow my father was able to make the simplest dish of food taste good.

And no offence to his cooking skills but I needed more. I was hit by the even sweeter smell of meat as I entered. The sign up at the door said 'Seat yourself', so I did just that. I was given a menu by a kind but tired looking waitress who I put through the daunting task of taking my large order. I had no idea what I was getting when I read things off but as long as it had meat or was fried, I didn't really care. By the time I was finished she looked like a fish, mouth opening and closing dumbly. It was almost as if she didn't know that Magiccraft cost a lot of energy which meant a lot of food. If it didn't I would long been the size of a house before now. There are two golden rules that you learn when you become an apprentice: 'Eat Plenty. Eat Often.'

So of course she didn't actually know that.

"A-are you...uh...sure about this?" she stuttered, eyes going from me to the paper in her hands, pen hanging loose in her grip. "This is at least seventy dollars worth of food."

Pulling out my wallet, I counted out seven tens and handed them to her. "Yes, I am."

After a few more seconds, she shrugged her shoulders. " Hey, it's your money."

Knowing such an order would take a great deal of time, I began to really observe my surroundings. This place was a step above most Inns I've had the mistake of spending my gold on. Moderately clean floors, washed clientele, no one around that I would think would try to knife me in the back as soon as I turned it. Most that I observed in here were those of my age or near enough, students I'd have to guess since schooling was mandatory in this nation. A few were working class people, like my father. Men and women on their lunch break who were getting their meals to go. I barely took note of those who came in and out as my food had arrived as the little bell above the door jingled at random.

I took my first bite of the item they called Chili Cheese Fries and was immediately taken in by the absolute symphony of flavor. It was salty, spicy, and oh so GOOD. Every mouthful was an experience unlike any I'd ever had before and before I knew it I had consumed the whole thing and was moving on to the 'Patty Melt.' My whole meal was like this from beginning to end. Every dish had a taste I'd never experienced before. Something new and almost addicting would wash over my senses with every bite. Though in my eagerness, I was mindful to not let my public decorum slip. Had I been at home, I'd have torn into my food with recklessness comparable to a wild beast.

I believe my alertness was the only reason why I noticed something was off. There was a sensation, barely more than a mental tap on the shoulder that nearly had me choking on my 'milkshake.' It was something I hadn't felt in a long time. My mental shields were being tested, rubbed upon like someone would run their hands along a fragile vase looking for flaws. Though this didn't feel like the insidiousness of a demonic possession (Thank Padum, I'd hate to have to give myself a stroke again to trap the little pest in my head) it certainly wasn't asking for permission to do so.

And that makes me very angry.

My table pretty much filled with empty plates, I closed my eyes and traced the link this presence was trying to make. I stood up, turned and opened them, making contact with the very fearful gaze of a girl at the very back of the restaurant. Sitting in the booth with her were two boys whose backs were to me, one with the skin tone of a Ho'nok though missing the distinct ridges on the ears, and another much more bulky girl who looked extremely displeased to be there.

I assessed the one who had, by now stopped touching my mind as I approached her table. She was just barely older than me, a girl whose body was on the developing side of adolescence. Her blonde hair styled into a tail, her fingers began to fiddle with it, never taking her eyes off me.

Whatever conversation was going on between the two boys stopped before I'd even reached the head of the table. The other girl straightened, aggression that wasn't there before aimed straight at me as I stood before them. I smile and fold my hands behind my back as I have the undivided attention of four sets of eyes.

I don't even look at the one who'd been sneaking where she wasn't wanted, instead looking out the window at the snowy city beyond. Before I open my mouth I consider if I should go for intimidation or honesty. I'm angry enough to flip-flop between either. After a measuring of both I decide honesty is the best approach. "You know, were we anywhere else I'd have killed you for that."

I finally look at her and while she's no longer fiddling with her hair, I can see the slight tremble in her hands. "Looking into people's minds is at best boring and at worse unpleasant. And I can tell you, my dear that I could show you some mighty unpleasant things."

All of her friends now look ready to jump for me, like they're expecting to me get violent here.

"Calm down. I don't think anyone here wants to start up a scene. Seeing as none of you seem particularly surprised by what I've said you all must be parahumans, right?" By the way every single one of them almost hops out of their seat, I'm apparently right. "Personally, I don't care who's privacy you invade as long as it isn't mine. In exchange I won't invade yours." I raise my hand and flick a gold coin out of my sleeve, one out of the stack I made last night for Mister Wilson's payment. I set it on the table and she looks at it like it's about go for her throat. Sure, I might be angry but I'm not that vindictive. I have to at least give her something for acknowledgement for her work. I may be upset but she's caught my attention. This is the first time anything beyond a demon was able to even get my attention in my mind. "But for your effort."

I check the clock on my phone as I turn around, 4:15. As I pick up my things from my booth, my senses tell me that they watch my every move until I'm out the door.

I'm halfway down the block when I feel my coin being snatched up and carried down the street, away from me at a very brisk pace.


	3. Keep Out (Interlude 1)

**AN: Wow, has it really been that long? Jeez. I got to get back to writing this. Hopefully this will tide you guys over while I get to work on the next chapter.**

* * *

Going to Fugly Bobs was a rare treat that Lisa liked to indulge in. It wasn't that greasy food was one of the long list of things Coil had banned her from doing. Nor was it because she put a lot of work into her figure and didn't want to ruin it with the most unhealthy food in the city. Hell, she loved Bob's burgers and fries. Today was even rarer as Brian somehow managed to talk Rachel into coming with them after getting Alec to...well, not be himself. That boy had a way of pushing buttons that Lisa almost envied and the only other girl on the team had little tolerance for his crap.

There was something Russian Roulette-like about food that made McDonald's look like a Jamba Juice. How with every bite you could almost feel your arteries begging for mercy. There was a thrill in that. No, it was just that first time she'd come to this place, it had ended in disaster for her.

This place had been her last free meal before Coil's goons showed up with an offer in one hand and a bullet in the other. She felt what little good mood she had today drop as she entered, the thought of that sleazy fucker frustrating her. He was a cape, no doubt. What kind she had no idea. Thinker probably. He knew things, every time she even thought about making a plan to get away or stepping a toe out of line there would be an email the very next day with the same four words.

 _Clever. Don't try it._

It was why she was here right now, she'd just gotten another one this morning and came to drown her sorrows in fat. Those words were her chains. Her shackles. His constant checkmate. His-

"Hey, check that out."

Alec's words pulled her out of her snake induced funk, as a waitress walked past their table clearly struggling with the number of plates on her tray. Watching, the woman walked past every single table that conceivably have enough people for an order that large her thoughts coming to a halt as the first plate was set in front of a girl sitting alone. At first, Lisa expected the second plate to be the last one but then a third, fourth, fifth, seventh, and tenth plate followed.

She counted twelve different menu items by the time the last plate was put down. "Holy shit."

"Yeah." Brian agreed with a low whistle. "Think she lost a bet or something?"

"Or something." Alec said, turning back around to the menu on the table. "Let me know when she's about to hurl. I wanna see that."

"Well I don't." Rachel grunted, her nose scrunched up. "Don't like the smell."

Alec took a sip of his milkshake. "It be weird if you did. Personally, I'd love to see 'one girl, one dinner' live."

The black teen smacked him upside the head and the sociopath only laughed in response. "Dude! Sick!"

Lisa felt her stomach turn in agreement. Alec had dared them to watch that certain video on a dare. It came out later in the news that those women had been mastered by some guy with a really sick fetish. Suddenly, the chocolate milkshake he was sipping on was very suspect.

Yet Lisa watched the girl out of curiosity but that quickly turned to open interest. The girl ate slowly, neatly, chewing her food like the most sophisticated competitive eater on earth. Not one crumb was wasted or dish uneaten as she demolished plate after plate without pause. Soon the entire group was watching her consume enough food to make even the fattest bottomless glutton take pause.

Soon as the girl began sipping on her milkshake almost everyone in the restaurant was, if not openly staring, taking a few interested glances in her direction. One girl in a group that had come in shortly after this girl took a picture with her cellphone before, with her friends in tow got up at walked out. Lisa made a note that they hadn't even ordered drinks before they left though one black girl with a athletic build did pause long enough to make a not so friendly stare at the girl eating before bringing up the rear.

Lisa brushed that off and focused back on the girl in question and she reached out with her power. It was an unconscious decision, more reactionary. She wanted to get a feel for this person. After all there was no way in hell she was able to eat all of this as calmly as sh- Lisa winced as she got the mental equivalent of running full sprint into a brick wall. Her mind reeled for a moment, tossed around in a not so insignificant wave of pain before she felt something 'grip' her. Her chest went cold as she tried to cut off her power and it failed. Temples pounding her brain, she frantically tried again and again to pull her power back into herself. It seemed to rebel against her, keeping her mind locked not only on the girl but wide open like a broken faucet.

Then something hooked her in. A simple jerk that made her brain feel like a fish on the end of a line, flopping around with no control.

And as the girl put down her milkshake, Lisa's heart began to tapdance in her chest as she slowly turned around to look her in the eye. As soon as she did the 'hook' let go mentally whiplashing her mind so hard that every thought shattered. As she came back to the present everyone at the table was looking at her and she only now realized she'd sweat through her shirt.

What turned her veins into ice was when the girl...No, the cape stood up and took the first step towards their booth. Trying her best not to tremble, she began to pull at her braid. The coded sign to the others to signal an approaching parahuman. One that could be hostile for all she could fucking know. For all the time she'd been locked to the girl's mind, she hadn't even been able to tell who they were about to deal with. It had been like she'd mentally walked into a trap. She could've just discovered the civilian identity of someone who DID NOT want to be found. She had no idea what this cape could do or even if they even played the 'Brockton Bay Game' of cops and robbers. For all she fucking knew this girl was about to kill them in broad daylight.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She hadn't realized she was almost praying in curses as the cape got closer.

Everyone got the message. Bitch's hands curled into fists. Grue adjusted his seat to prepare for a tackle. Regent began 'toying' with his knife and fork.

Finally, the girl stopped in front of them and Lisa was stuck but just how...sickly the girl looked. Thin frame, gaunt face, skin damn near the color milk. She didn't look like she should even be out in this freezing weather much less in Bobs. And with a casual coolness se stopped in front of their table and looked right at her. "You know where we anywhere else I'd have killed you for that."

Oh god, they were dead meat. Stick a fork in them kind of done. Lisa slowly, like she had a loaded gun right in front of her nose, put her hands from her hair to flat on the table. As if any sudden moves would have this cape at her throat.

"Looking into people's minds is at best boring and at worse unpleasant. And I can tell you, my dear that I could show you some mighty unpleasant things."

Her eyes gazed over everyone, taking their stock. "Calm down." Lisa didn't. "I don't think anyone here wants to start up a scene. Seeing as none of you seem particularly surprised by what I've said you all must be parahumans, right?" She can't help but jump at that and she quickly looked around to make sure that there wasn't anyone within earshot. Luckily whatever attention this cape had attracted from her binge had moved on to their cellphones or food.

"Personally, I don't care who's privacy you invade as long as it isn't mine. In exchange I won't invade yours." Lisa let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. At least, she wasn't going to blow their covers.

The girl raised her hand and with a flick of her sleeve a golden circle appears in her fingers. "But for your effort." It took a moment of staring before Lisa realized it was a gold coin. The cape set it down and smiled at them like putting straight gold in front of strangers was no big deal. With an almost regal air, she strode out of the restaurant without even a backwards glance. She kept her eyes right on the girl who began to march down the street and out of sight from the windows. For a moment that seemed to stretch to infinity, no one at the table moved, looks going from the windows to the coin the same way someone would look at a live grenade with a pin pulled. When it became apparent that it wasn't going to do something unspeakably horrible to them, Lisa reached out and touched to coin. When still nothing happened she picked it up, much to the chagrin of Brian who gave her an 'Are you out of your fuck-mothering mind?' look as she pocketed it.

"Look, she gave it to us and I'm not taking a chance of being outed by someone who gets pissy when her gifts are ignored." She explained. Plus, what choice did they have really? They take it and they get screwed over or they don't take it and they get screwed. She never got a sense from the girl or what she would do either way. Talk about a rock and a harder goddamn rock. "Let's just get the fuck out of here."


End file.
